Hard Knocks by Zoe Sharp Read Free Book Online Page B

grateful at that point. More and more of us fell back to a walk, then tottered to a stop. I bent over, hands braced on my knees, and tried to drag air into my system through tubes that suddenly seemed totally inadequate for the job.
     
    “What the fuck’s going on?” Todd demanded as he came pounding up from giving them hell at the back. He didn’t seem to be out of breath and was barely sweating. “Have you pathetic lot given up already?”
     
    For a moment there was a silence that was almost fearful, then someone dragged up the courage to speak. “We’re not sure of the path, sir,” he said.
     
    “What?” Todd roared. “Who’s that? Where’s Blakemore?”
     
    “Erm, I’m McKenna, sir,” the same man supplied. “Mr Blakemore, he, erm, just sort of dropped back.” He spoke hesitantly, in case he was blamed for the bad news. “I think his knee might have been giving him some trouble.”
     
    Todd swore under his breath. “Come on then,” he said sharply, and led off at a furious pace. I dragged in a final lungful of stationary air and forced my quivering limbs back into a jog. It was worse starting up again than if I’d kept running.
     
    When we got back to the Manor, Todd and O’Neill had us doing ten minutes of star jumps and sit-ups just off the gravel, on the icy grass. We were doing full army sit-ups, which I never recommended to anyone when I was working at the gym. I didn’t think it was a point worth mentioning to these two.
     
    It was only then that Blakemore reappeared. As he came past me I noticed he was moving the same as he had been when he set out, with no apparent increase in his limp.
     
    O’Neill must have seen that, too, because he broke off shouting vicious encouragement and grabbed Blakemore’s arm, spinning him to a standstill. “Where the fuck have you been?” he said, keeping his voice low. “Todd’s been doing his fruit.”
     
    “Don’t panic,” Blakemore said calmly. His mouth twisted into a derisive smile. “He’s just mad ‘cos he didn’t think of it himself. “
     
    O’Neill skimmed his eyes over the nearest of us to see if anyone was obviously listening in. I forced a bit more effort into my latest sit-up. “You know what the old man said about us sticking together,” he went on, speaking quietly through clenched teeth. “He’s going to go ballistic if he finds out you’ve been off on your own.”
     
    “So don’t tell him,” Blakemore said, careless now.
     
    “Yeah, and if anyone else finds out, that makes us both look bad, doesn’t it?” O’Neill muttered.
     
    Blakemore shrugged his arm away. “Well,” he said coldly, “I’m not the one with secrets. How about you?”
     

Four
     
    After we’d showered and grabbed breakfast, they hustled us straight into the classroom. Gilby conducted the first lesson himself. He announced it, in the manner of someone expecting a round of applause, as an introduction to the art and science that was modern close protection work, and a debunking of the myths. Basically, it was an extended version of his welcome speech from the night before.
     
    He was only mildly condescending towards the women in the industry, even admitting that they might have their areas of particular suitability. I smiled sweetly when he caught my eye, and tried not to show how much I was grinding my teeth. But, almost to my surprise, the more he spoke the more interested in the subject I became.
     
    Annoyance and curiosity were useful emotions. They kept me awake. After the cold and the exertion of the morning, the stuffy heat of the classroom began to have its effect. Some of the students were visibly struggling not to fall asleep.
     
    At one point McKenna nodded so hard that he nearly fell off his chair. He only got away with it by turning the movement into a violent coughing fit. He was a skinny youngster with a pale complexion that seemed to go pink at the slightest provocation. By the time he’d finished he was flushed